From a High Tower

by Mercedes Lackey

  And with that, she scuttled off across the snow like a black spider, leaving Johann alone. She didn’t even give Johann a chance to respond.

  The mirror she had left beside Johann went dark, no longer controlled by the old woman. Now Johann was limited only to what he could scry . . . and it didn’t appear that he knew how.

  “My turn,” Giselle whispered.

  18

  THEY had been counting on Johann not knowing how to scry, and it seemed that they had been right. Like Rosa, Giselle was wearing several layers of men’s clothing and an oversized coat to fit atop all of it, although she did not have anything like Rosa’s silver-lined leather “armor.” And, like Fox and Rosa, she was swathed in an over-garment made of white sheets. Fox had not known how to create an “invisibility” spell, and there was no time to experiment.

  Unlike the men, since she did not want to be seen, she did not try to get out though the first-floor window of the side of the abbey facing Johann’s camp. Instead, she squeezed out the second-floor tower window opposite where Johann still sat; the snow had drifted up to that point and formed a steep slope downward. Making sure her chosen rifle and its little stand were securely fastened to her back, she eased herself belly-down onto the snow and pushed off.

  Under other circumstances, the ride would have been exhilarating. It definitely took her breath away, and she and Mother had often made toboggan runs back when she was a child. With her heart racing, she dug in with her toes to slow herself down, and prayed she wouldn’t hit anything as she catapulted down the slope, then managed to force her hurtling body into a curve that took her in the direction of Johann’s camp.

  Guiding herself with her hands, she used the momentum of the slide to get quite some distance closer to where her quarry sat. After she slowed and finally stopped, she kept her head down and well covered by the sheet and slowly slid herself along on her stomach, as she had done when sliding as a child. She didn’t want to move too quickly; even at this distance, if Johann looked in this direction, he might notice movement. Every so often she peeked out from under the sheet to see if she could spot Johann, or the vardo. She saw the vardo first, by the splash of yellow against the white of the snow. Finally, she made out Johann; she knew him by the blue blanket he was wrapped in, a single spot of blue against the yellow and red wagon under the trees. Moving carefully so as not to dislodge her camouflaging garment, she worked her rifle off her back, eased the sheet forward, and slowly worked the rifle out until only the very tip of the barrel might be visible. Then she looked through the thing that made this rifle unique.

  It had a telescope sight.

  It was the only one in Cody’s entire collection that did. Telescopic sights were incredibly rare, and she had been frankly astonished he had one at all when he’d shown her this summer. It was a very fine rifle to begin with, and with the scope on it . . . well, it transcended “fine.” That meant that she could use it at a much greater distance than she usually shot targets. That meant that even if Johann took into consideration that she was an expert marksman, he would be under the impression that she would have to get close enough to him that he would see her before she could shoot him. The problem was, it only really worked within a certain range: the maximum range of the rifle itself.

  Too far. He’s still out of range. The blue blur in the sight told her that. Keeping her eye on the sight, she inched forward, slowly, moving carefully to minimize the chance that she would be spotted.

  It seemed to take forever, and the cold seeped into her, despite all the layers between her and the snow. Don’t start shivering or you won’t be able to stop, she reminded herself. And breathe slowly. You don’t want a bit of foggy breath to escape and give you away. Let it all get caught by your scarf and the sheet.

  Her joints ached with the cold by the time she got into place. She set the little stand up and propped the rifle barrel on it; at least now she could concentrate on her magic and her aim. Then she closed her eyes, gathered up a little, little bit of Air Magic, and used it to seek out Fox’s raven.

  ? it replied.

  Yes, now, she told it.

  From the forest behind where Johann sat, a black form exploded skyward, shouting out exactly four raucous alarm calls as it sped away from the vardo as fast as it could flap its wings.

  The sound rang out across the quiet valley, sending other birds all across the valley into the sky, sounding out their own calls of alarm. In the scope, Johann merely looked annoyed.

  Good, he must think something else scared the birds.

  But that had been the signal for the others to stop leading their targets away and go on the attack. Hopefully, they had already chosen better ground to fight on than six feet of snow with ice on top of it.

  Then, it started, and even though she was prepared for it, it still made her jump and her heart start to race uncontrollably. The noises of conflict erupted from all over the valley; the echoes made it impossible to tell how many fights there were, or where, exactly, they were happening. Male and female shouting, then one shout turning from a yell into a bestial roar. Her skin was crawling, and she clenched her teeth so hard her face ached.

  Concentrate, Giselle reminded herself, and began to work her magic. She needed to create that tunnel of air . . . but she needed it to stop about a foot or so from him, so he wouldn’t detect it. Yet.

  And I’m using my magic to kill someone. No. Not just kill him. Murder him in cold blood. . . . She felt ice in the pit of her stomach, and not from the snow or the frigid air.

  How would the Great Elementals feel about that? They had warned her against using her lesser allies to harm on her behalf. But what about using the magic itself? And not in self-defense, either. That was something Rosa apparently had never done; in every story she had told about destroying something, it had either pretty much been in a purely physical manner, or she had broken the renegade’s magic so that his own Elementals turned on him. This, well . . . I can’t do this without magic.

  She could try, but she did not dare take the chance that this would fail. And to be certain, she had to use magic. She hadn’t mentioned this to the others, or they might have tried to talk her out of it.

  I couldn’t let them do that. She watched Johann through the scope, she felt her insides twisting up with conflict. I’m the only one that has a chance of pulling this off. And Johann must die, or we will find ourselves facing the Frost Giant, the Breath of the Ice Wurm, or both. She had no doubt that Johann was conserving his magic and his strength, manipulating his parents and his brother to expend theirs on his behalf. He was the mastermind here. She had watched him prod and twist them with his words, keeping them all at each others’ throats . . . but except for Dieter, never really at his. And the father had Dieter firmly in check. He flattered his father and mother obliquely, yet with challenge, making them prove themselves by expending themselves over and over while he sat in his chair like a spider in a web, waiting, waiting. She reckoned that if he needed to, he could continue those two terrible pieces of magic all by himself.

  Is he even still a cripple? She could not be sure. It certainly suited him to be thought one right now. But he was an Air Master, so . . . it was possible he was no longer as handicapped as he once had been. Air was not noted for being able to heal, but . . .

  Who knows what he has been able to coerce out of the Elementals he has in his thrall?

  She was probably going to get only one chance for this shot. When she touched him with her magic, he would feel it. He had to be suitably distracted at that moment, so that he would not react immediately.

  He was not distracted enough yet. He had expected the sounds of conflict; in fact, he was smiling a little. She realized in that moment that he did not care if one or more of his family fell, so long as there was at least one left. So long as she ended up in his hands. And the best person to take her was probably his mother. His mother was a witch, and he
was probably counting on the fact that there was not a lot, magically, that even an Air Master could do against the knowledge and stolen powers of a witch. Witches were too unpredictable. There was no way of knowing what they had stolen, what they had learned from old books of spells, what they managed to get from pacts with Elementals or . . . other things.

  It’s murder him, or he murders us. She tried to rationalize it, and . . . then she realized what she was doing. There was no way of escaping what she was about to do.

  I cannot rationalize it. So be it. To save my friends, I will murder. With my powers. In cold blood. And I will accept whatever comes of that.

  A great calm settled over her. Her hands steadied. Her breathing steadied. And that was when Rosa’s coach gun roared out over the valley.

  That startled him. His head jerked in that direction. In that instant, she thrust the tube of air forward, touched it to his temple, and squeezed the trigger.

  The rifle butt snapped into her shoulder. In the scope, a bright red spot blossomed at Johann’s temple. And he toppled forward, out of the chair, to lie motionless in the snow.

  A scream rent the air from above, and Giselle threw back the sheet and looked up to see the Thunderbird plunging toward her. She watched it come, feeling . . . still calm. So be it—she thought.

  And then its talons skimmed a good foot above her head, and she heard a screech behind her as it hit something, and there was thunder all around her as it beat its wings to gain the sky again.

  Instantly she rolled over, to see the great Elemental thundering upward with something in its talons. Someone. Someone screaming.

  Johann’s mother. The witch. The Thunderbird had caged her with its talons, holding her fast as the sickle and staff dropped from her hands to land in the snow.

  The witch writhed and shrieked as the Thunderbird carried her higher and higher, until it was so high that her voice faded to nothing in the distance.

  Then it let go.

  The witch’s screaming didn’t end until she hit the snow with the same crack as a rifle bullet, but much louder.

  Nothing could have survived that fall.

  Stunned, Giselle stared, unable to move, until she realized that Fox was standing motionless beside her. How had he come up beside her without her noticing? She looked over at him and met his solemn gaze.

  “Strictly speaking,” he said, in a conversational tone, “It was not the Thunderbird that killed her, it was the fall. And strictly speaking, it was not your magic that killed the Air Master, it was the bullet.”

  “Oh,” she replied. And that was all she could manage, until he took her by the elbow.

  “I think we should make sure of our friends,” he said.

  Rosa’s fight with the berserker had gone as she had coolly planned; Giselle read the signs in the snow and the grass when they reached her. She had ambushed him in an area of forest floor scrubbed bare by the blizzard wind. She had goaded him into shape-shifting by taunting him and staying just out of his reach. Then, once he had shifted, she had unloaded both barrels of her coach gun into him—one barrel holding a silver slug, the other silver shot. It had been a short fight. They found her calmly waiting for them, sitting on a stump, with the lacerated remains of the man-bear lying in a splatter of bloody snow at the edge of the cleared spot.

  Cody they found slumped over his knees, panting heavily, while the body of Johann’s father lay burning a few feet away. When he looked up at them, they could all see he’d taken a battering. One eye was swelling shut, his lip was split, and his nose was broken and bleeding.

  “Mighty glad t’see y’all,” he said, thickly. “Reckon I need a little he’p getting back.”

  “What happened?” Giselle gasped, and with Fox, ran to help him up.

  “Short story. He figgered I was a-gonna challenge him to a magic-fight once he figgered out I wasn’t you . . .” Cody groaned as they lifted him to his feet. “Dammit, I think he cracked m’ribs. Anyways, instead, I jest waded straight on inter him. We pounded on each other fer a while, then we heerd that witch screamin’ an’ he reared back, an’ I reckoned I was about t’get blasted, so I did th’ on’y thing I could think of. I set m’hands on fire.” He shook his head. “What I didn’ know was that there coat’ve his was oilcloth over wool. Reckon he thought he was purdy smart, bein’ all waterproof in that storm. Turned out that weren’t such a good ideer. He went up like a bonfire. Damndest thing I ever did see.”

  “You go ahead of me for a moment,” Rosa ordered, looking at the forest. “I will see to cleaning up the bodies. I would rather they didn’t remain here for more than another hour or so. Don’t worry, it won’t take me more than a few minutes to arrange. But those bodies are still reservoirs of dark magic, and we need to have them gone. Such things can spawn vengeful ghosts or turn innocent Elementals to the bad.”

  Giselle started to ask how Rosa intended to do that . . . then saw the look on her face, and decided not to ask. At least, not then. Maybe not ever.

  The three of them headed back to the abbey, with Cody leaning on Fox, and all of them stopping when he needed to catch his breath. Rosa caught up with them when they were almost there, and told them with a curt nod that whatever it was she was doing about the bodies had been taken care of.

  Giselle noticed that the spot where the mound of snow had been building—which presumably would have become the Frost Giant—had collapsed in on itself, forming a sort of concave dish. And there goes my last worry.

  They found Kellermann waiting anxiously for them at the first floor window he and the other two men had gone out of. With much groaning and cursing, they got Cody inside, and there they left him with Giselle while they got a bench to carry him on, and a couple of the cowboys to do the carrying. Or rather, Fox and Rosa went to get the help. Kellermann vanished to get rid of his rather embarrassing “disguise.”

  Giselle fervently blessed Elfrida’s handiwork, as the two who arrived were entirely incurious about how Cody had managed to get damaged. He stammered something about one of the broncos acting up, and they just accepted it without asking why he was wearing a strange cloak and Giselle’s braids around his neck. The skirt was long gone, probably in the fight, but Giselle counted that a small cost.

  Elfrida managed to get the sheets off them relatively intact, then went to work on Cody. “I’m glad your healing skills are better than mine,” Rosa said, ruefully, as she divested herself of some of her layers of clothing. Unlike Giselle, she hadn’t needed to borrow any. Evidently she used men’s clothing quite often when she was hunting.

  “That’s all right, dearie. I wouldn’t be of much use hunting down werewolves,” Elfrida said, quite as if she dealt with battles like the one they had just been through every day. “Now, if you could just lend me a nice bit of magic, I think we can have this young fellow all right in very little time.”

  Giselle stripped off most of what she was wearing—it had been borrowed from Kellermann, who gathered it up and took it back to his quarters. That left her in one of her flannel shirts and the suede trousers she wore under her buckskin skirt She didn’t feel at all right about leaving Cody alone, and evidently neither did Fox, so they both stayed while Elfrida and Rosa worked on him, magically and physically. When he was stripped to the waist, it was evident he had taken a wicked beating; he was black and blue from his neck to his stomach.

  “I take back everything uncomplimentary I ever said about you, Captain,” Rosa said, on seeing that. “I don’t know too many men who could have taken the punishment you just did and still finished the fight.”

  “Pshaw!” Cody said, but behind his bruises, he looked pleased. “Point is, we each did what we was supposed to. An’ it all ended all right.”

  When Elfrida pronounced him “as fit as he was going to be without plenty of rest,” she released him to go “straight to bed, and no stopping on the way,” and handed Fox a bottle o
f brandy with instructions to “Put him into bed, put his hat on the bedpost, and have him drink until he sees two hats.”

  On hearing that, Cody turned, took the old woman’s face in both his hands, and gave her a hearty kiss right on the lips. “Frida, you are my kind of woman! Iffen I thought you’d migrate back to Texas with me, I’d marry ya here an’ now!”

  Elfrida went scarlet, and laughed, sounding pleased. “You wicked boy! You could never keep up with me! I’ve buried two husbands, and I’ve no patience for training up a third! Now get along to bed with you, and I’ll be up with food. If the brandy doesn’t put you to sleep, my good pancakes will!”

  Cody was able to travel more or less under his own power now, though he limped heavily and kept one hand pressed to his bandaged side. Kellermann met them at the door to his rooms—once Mother’s—and he and Fox put him to bed, then allowed the two women in.

  Giselle sighed, as she settled down in “her” old chair at Mother’s hearth—much improved with one of those stoves. “I just realized how incredibly stupid this all was.”

  “How so?” Rosa asked, as Elfrida appeared with a tray of beautiful potato pancakes and applesauce. She set the tray down on Cody’s lap, and he put his tumbler of brandy down beside the food, looking well pleased with himself.

  “This all began because Johann and his brother heard some rumor about Mother’s treasure, back when I was younger.” Giselle shook her head. “If they hadn’t believed such a stupid story, they’d never have come here in the first place, and none of this ever would have happened.”

  “Since we rid the world of four very nasty characters, I can’t say I’m terribly displeased with the outcome,” Rosa pointed out, dryly. “Not to mention getting the pleasure of your company. And you would not have been there to help Captain Cody with the Wild West Show! But what do you mean, she didn’t have any treasure? She had enough money to purchase and abandon that house where she lured your father. And she had enough money to support the two of you quite comfortably while she was alive. She was an Earth Master with extensive contacts with dwarves. Most of them have ways of winkling gold or gems out of the little fellows.”